Down with the paint-triarchy

Today, I visited a local hardware store. It’s part of a well-known chain. I won’t name it. Let’s just call it ‘Mansplain 10’.

You see, I’ve been working on the fence, treating the lichen and water-blasting it off. It was time to apply a new coat of stain. And so I headed down to Mansplain 10.*

There was a good special on a decent brand – 25% off – so I got the stain tinted and took it to the counter.

‘I don’t know why you got this brand’, said the young man behind the counter, by way of a hello. ‘There’s much cheaper brands’.

I looked at him. He read the colour I’d picked off the lid of the can – ‘cedar’ – and murmured to himself, ‘Cheddar’.

Even someone as ungifted in the kitchen as my good self knows you don't paint your fence with cheddar. It’s no gouda for that sort of thing.

The young guy rang up the paint on the till, and it came up full price.

‘It’s supposed to be 25% off’, I said.

It was at this point that the guy behind me in the queue, completely unbidden, interjected himself to explain to me, ‘There’s no margin on paint’.

I looked at him. There was a moment of silence. I resisted the urge to ask what one of the greatest economic minds of our time was doing in a hardware store queue in the Hutt Valley, and I simply said through gritted teeth, ‘They still have to sell it at the advertised price’.

Please understand that I am a competent human being. Jeez, I have a PhD. Granted, it’s not a PhD in fence painting – but I never thought I needed one of those, because THE INSTRUCTIONS ARE ON THE SIDE OF THE ****ING CAN.

My friend behind the counter eventually resolved the pricing issue, and took the opportunity to remind me, ‘I don’t know why you got this. There’s much cheaper brands’.

I looked at him. It’s important to understand that once you’ve had the paint or stain tinted, the value of advice like this is 25% off sweet **** all.

And his comment was factually incorrect because DO NOT EVEN START ME on the false economy of low-grade paint.

‘It’s a better quality of paint’, I growled, like someone who has 25% off her sense of humour.

‘Oh, yeah!’, he said cheerfully.

During my visit to Mansplain 10, ‘Sisters are doing it for themselves’ played ironically over the loudspeakers. I listened to it and reflected that this is not the future Annie Lennox and Aretha Franklin dreamed of.

I paid and gathered up my purchase.

The sole time a man could have been helpful to me, none was around. I lugged ten litres of cedar stain to the car by myself.

In summary, I found this event o-fence-sive. I was not lichen any of it.

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* Is it a victory for the women’s movement that my version of Word accepts ‘Mansplain’ as a word? Possibly not.